Clark: Spokane’s second day of summer was the perfect time to Tango

They say it takes two to tango. But Wednesday – the second day of summer – I swear I counted at least 10 adults who were dancing tango in the middle of the South Hill streets of Spokane.

I know. That sounds like the sort of vision you’d see when you’re in the throes of peyote or a gas station chili dog binge.

But it’s true. Spokane, I’ve discovered, has a lively community devoted to that highly theatrical form of dance that, according to my casual internet check, hails back to Argentina or Uruguay in the 1880s.

Who knew? Every time I think I’ve got this burg figured out, someone comes along to throw me a knuckleball.

The pitcher this time was Anne Marie Burk.

The South Hill resident invited me to her home to document her most unusual Wednesday gathering.

“There will be a bevy of beautiful ladies and gentlemen doing the tango on my two outdoor dance floors,” she said, “lit by lights on the trees, the upper decks and the candlelit tables.”

And that wasn’t even the most compelling part.

No, the most compelling part was this:

After some snacks and chitchat, her guests hop on bicycles to add a stop-and-tango aspect to the city’s annual Summer Parkways.

The 7-9 p.m. event is pretty cool.

As many as 3,000 riders of all ages meander through the lush neighborhoods between Manito Park and Comstock Park.

About 4 miles of streets are open to human-powered transit only, as in bikes, skates or just hoofing it.

Add one interloping red Honda Ruckus motor scooter.

Bill Bender, avid cyclist and chief organizer behind Spokane Summer Parkways, granted me a special dispensation to follow the pack of tango riders on my softly putting Ruckus.

The idea to bring Summer Parkways here, he told me, came from watching a video of a big “bike path” event in Bogota, Colombia. Spokane is now one of dozens of locations to replicate this mass tribute to exercise and fitness.

My motorized presence was, according to the rules, a no-no that provoked one participant to send me the following email on Thursday.

“I was taking photos of people walking and riding the route when I saw your scooter coming through,” wrote Hank Greer, who added:

“I suggest that next time, if there is a next time, you act like you’re pushing yourself along with your legs as if you’re on a strider bike.”

That way you’d “fit in with the clientele a little better.”

Critics. Everywhere I go there’s a critic.

Look. Like I told Bender, I don’t have a working bicycle.

True, I do have a cool Schwinn Paramount gathering dust in my basement. But it needs tires and an overhaul and probably a blessing from a priest.

I do love that bike. I used to ride it a lot before I got fat and lazy. But without it on Wednesday evening, how else was I going to observe traveling tango riders?

I felt out of place, I’ll admit.

Riding my normally slowpoke Ruckus along the Summer Parkways course was the only time I’ve found myself too fast for traffic.

But it was worth breaking the no-motor rule.

Once we left Burk’s house, all the riders followed what the host called the “tango wagon music man.”

Or Grant Shipley and his weird sound contraption.

Shipley, a long-haired, athletic and good-humored guy, came dressed in a loose blue cabana shirt, black shorts and a pair of baby blue Converse All-Stars.

Not the classic tango outfit, sure. But the man is insanely hooked on the dance nonetheless.

Shipley told me he fell in love with tango by accident, while visiting his daughter in Portland a dozen or so years ago.

Having some hours to kill, he discovered that there was a big tango festival going on. Shipley went to investigate and, well, got swept away.

“I don’t sit around too well,” he said, adding one of his trademark guffaws.

I met Shipley years ago when we each had a kid attending the same grade school. A few years after that, I unwisely accompanied him on one of his crazy adventures.

For years, he and some friends would hike to the top of Mount Spokane on a particular day in mid-May and then ski back down over the mostly snowless and dangerous brush-scattered terrain.

I barely made the long hike to the top, wheezing like a sea lion with bronchitis. Not being a skier, I watched the madness during the long hobble back down.

Amazingly, no bones were broken.

Shipley’s segue into tango biking is a similarly over-the-top venture.

He jury-rigged a makeshift sound system onto two small trailers that he hitched behind his black 1962 Schwinn American bicycle.

The sound system is powered by a 33-pound battery. It includes 60 pounds of stereo gear with two subwoofers.

As clunky as it looks, however, Shipley’s rolling rig delivers a surprisingly high-quality mix of classic tango tunes.

So every few blocks (“anytime I get the urge” … more guffaws), Shipley simply pulls over, cranks the music up to 11 and all his followers dismount and dance.

The sight of couples doing the tango in public adds a surreal yet graceful backdrop to the Summer Parkways flow.

It’s downright inspiring, too. At least it was for Brandon Anderson and his 6-year-old daughter, Franny.

Coming upon Shipley’s traveling song-and-dance scene at a corner near Comstock Park, the two parked their bikes.

Little Franny stepped onto her dad’s sneakers. Then the pair, bike helmets still affixed to their heads, began their own outdoor tango while the sun set slowly on summer’s second day.